Respect
by Rose Stetson
Summary: After learning that the IOA is looking into rumors about her alleged affair with O'Neill, Carter is thrown into a web of lies, murder and deceit that may have more drastic consequences than the simple court-martial of her friend and commanding officer.
1. Memo

"...So, you're selling your house, and you're going to live...on a ship..."

Sam looked over at her former commanding officer with a small smile as she pulled a sweater out of her chest of drawers. "I know it sounds a little crazy." She said with an understanding nod.

"Just a little?" He asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"What do you expect me to do?" She asked, looking at him as she placed the sweater into her bag. "After the whole Atlantis thing, I haven't really gotten very many, uh...opportunities for advancement, you might say..."

"Yes..." He sighed. "Thank you, Woolsey."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Look, I know how you feel about him..."

Jack raised an eyebrow as he studied her.

"Look, I think we had an especially bad first meeting..."

"Well, he practically accused of us of wasting the Air Force's money when Janet was killed."

Sam tensed. "I know."

"To say nothing of the fact that he wasn't even apologetic about the fact that Cassandra was without a mother, and we'd all experienced a loss..."

"I know." She reiterated as tension grew with her discomfort.

"I mean, I know I was lying on a gurney through the whole thing, but..."

"I know." She muttered, casting her warning glance to him in an effort to get him to stop talking about it.

"Look, I just think he's an ass."

"Well, he did get Kinsey fired," she offered, limply.

"Yes, well..." Jack said with a sigh.

"Barrett keeps insisting that Woolsey is just trying to..."do his duty"..." She said, using the newly-promoted Lieutenant General's trademark air quotations, as she shrugged. "I don't know..."

"Well, can't be doing too well if he fires the most qualified woman for the job in at least two galaxies and replaces her with himself."

Sam blushed. "I'm hardly the most qualified woman," she chuckled, modestly.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but ANYONE would be better than Woolsey, and I think that the Pentagon made its wisest decision yet when they invited you to take the position."

"At your suggestion, I'm sure."

"Hey, who's better than your former commanding officer to tell them about your unique qualifications?" He asked with a wink.

She managed a nervous smile as she turned back to her packing with a small sigh.

"Hey..." Jack murmured from where he sat on the bed, watching her moves around the bedroom as she packed her bag.

"Hm?" She asked as she continued her work without looking at him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

She turned a glance back at him, looking considerably like the woman he'd worked with for so many years on SG-1, despite the fact that her blond hair now framed her face in carefully placed curls which had made her drastically more feminine in appearance. "Truth is, I took this job as much for you as I did it for myself."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard a few...rumors..."

"Rumors..." He said, skeptically.

She swallowed. "Barrett sent me this report that he managed to find...I didn't ask any questions, but..."

"But what?"

She reached for a piece of paper which had stuck out of her brief case. "I think it's the reason why they fired me."

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the piece of paper which she had just handed him. "What is this?"

"Woolsey's speculation about our...allegedly inappropriate personal relationship."

"Sam," he murmured apologetically, looking up at her.

"Look, if they fired me because of this, you're probably next." She said, pulling the sheet of paper back from him as she folded it. "That's why I'm leaving."

"You don't have to do this, Carter." He said, seriously. "You don't have to protect me."'

"Yes, Jack," she said with a small sigh. "I do."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted. "We can't afford to lose you and your expertise. At this point, I'm not as valuable as you are."

"I think you and I both know that has about a snowball's chance in hell of being true."

"Look, I know you think I'm this...irreplaceable resource that is capable of single-handedly saving the planet, but the truth is that there's a whole planet full of people who are smarter than me."

"Uh...that's debatable."

"My work on the Stargate program has been cataloged and will be easily accessible. And they can pull me in whenever they need me. But if you get forced into retirement?"

"If I could only be so lucky," Jack groaned.

The doorbell rang, and Sam sighed as she looked toward the door. "I'm just saying...you can do more good where you are than I can with my...diminished credibility."

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Let me get rid of them, and I'll be right back, okay?" She said, managing a small smile.

He nodded, somewhat reluctantly, as she left.

She walked up to the door before opening it. She inhaled sharply as she saw the person on the other side of the door, whose face had been turned from her door.

"Mr. Woolsey," she managed in her surprise.

"Colonel," he said, amicably. "I hope this isn't a bad time?"

"Just...packing..." She said, motioning to the uncharacteristically messy living room. She turned back to him. "What are you doing here? Can Atlantis really afford to have you gone for any length of time?"

"I'm here for my annual review board," he said, soberly.

"Any surprises?" She asked, trying to control the bitter tone in her voice.

"Colonel, I know this seems unconventional..."

"Unconventional?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think that's putting it mildly."

He sighed. "I didn't come looking for a warm welcome, but I hope that you'll keep an open mind at the very least."

"Just cut to the chase, Richard. I don't have a lot of time to waste." She said, soberly.

"I'm sorry," he said, unexpectedly.

Sam blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I came to apologize."

"For..."

"For my unsupportive attitude and remarks over the past several years," he said, seriously. "I was trying to be the conscience to something I didn't fully understand at the time."

Sam just stared at him in surprise.

"I'm not saying that I would necessarily change anything." He clarified. "And even with these considerations for the difficulty of your job, I don't agree with every command decision which you made..."

"Well, as long as that's cleared up." She said, somewhat sarcastically.

"But I respect how difficult it was for you to make those decisions. Especially with how dearly you hold rules and regulations."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you must be speaking of someone else...because if I recall correctly, you once sent a memo which indicated that I was "not capable of holding [myself] to even the most basic of military protocols"."

He winced, recognizing once again, that SG-1's personal connections would entitle them to the most sensitive of his memorandi. "When I said that, my judgment about SG-1 was still somewhat clouded by my unfortunate affiliations with...certain individuals."

"You mean, the former Vice President?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Among others," he admitted somewhat regrettably.

"And your time in command suddenly changed your mind about all of this?"

"It's...difficult..." He began slowly. "To remain objective when you are in the thick of everything. And I have made my share of mistakes as well."

"Ah." She said with sarcastic understanding, sounding much like Jack as she reached to close the door. "Well, as long as we understand each other on that point."

"Colonel Carter," he interrupted as he placed his hand on the door. "I'll leave in a moment after I've finished what I came here to say."

She stood, watching him closely.

"Despite the fact that I am not entirely sure that I would have given you an any more positive review if I'd known two years ago what I know now," he said, slowly. "I have grown to understand, and perhaps, even respect your decisions over the last thirteen years."

She was silent for a few moments before she inhaled. "Thank you, Mr. Woolsey," she said, pushing aside her surprise.

"Well, that's all I came here to say. Enjoy your assignment on the _George Hammond_."

She managed a small and somewhat insincere smile.

"I'll just...go." He said, clearly uncomfortable as he turned to step back down to his car.

"Good luck," Sam said after a moment. "With your work."

"Thank you," he said with a grateful smile as he nodded in his appreciation.

She closed the door with a small, and almost confused, sigh as Jack poked his head around the corner. "Woolsey?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

She nodded.

"What'd he want?"

"To...apologize..." She said with her brow furrowed.

His eyes widened. "Are you kidding?"

She shook her head. "No...and the weirdest part is that I think it was...sincere. I mean, down to the "I still disagree with your command decisions, but I understand them" clause of his speech."

"Huh," he murmured, pensively.

She exhaled quickly before she clapped her hands back together. "Guess it's back to packing."

"Not until Daniel, Teal'c, Mitchell, and Vala come to help."

"Jack..."

"What? You have a big house for someone who practically lives offworld." He defended.

She chuckled softly as she relieved some of the tension she'd been feeling.

"Carter, about this whole...job thing..."'

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I'll just do my time, and maybe someday someone will see my compatibility for work at Area 51 or something."

"I'm sorry, Carter," he said with a sigh. "If I'd known..."

"You would have inadvertently made things worse," she said with an affectionate smile. "Like I said, I'll do my time, and hope for the best."

He nodded, thoughtfully, as she slipped past him and back into the bedroom.

"Hey, Carter?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you putting your stuff?"

She shrugged. "Some of it's being sold, some of it's being given away, and some of it's being put in storage. The more...sensitive items are probably going to be put in Daniel's basement, but...other than that..."

"Let me know if you need me to stash some stuff at my place, okay?"

"Probably not, given the circumstances, but I'll keep it in mind." She said, nodding affirmatively.

"Right." He said, nodding. "I just..."

"I know." She said with a grateful smile. "And I appreciate it." She motioned to his cell. "So, were you going to call in the troops, General?"

"Oh, right." He said, pulling out of his reverie as he began tapping on the keyboard of his phone.

"I'm going to get back to this," she said, motioning to the bag on her bed. "Hopefully I'll be through before Daniel and the gang show up."

He nodded, discreetly, as he stepped out of the room to place the call.

Sam sighed softly as she wondered for the thousandth time if she had the courage to do what her heart had wanted to do for years - leave the Air Force and spend the rest of her days as retired Colonel Samantha Carter, the lover, and maybe someday, wife of Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, who spent her days as a scientist and researcher at one of the universities which dotted the eastern United States.

She knew he'd never ask - he'd proved at least that much over the years - but with the scrutiny on the program before its inevitable unveiling, she wasn't sure they could ever set aside the awkwardness of their professional relationship so many years before.

"Carter?" Jack asked as he walked back into the bedroom.

"Yes?" She asked, turning to him as she more figuratively turned from her thoughts.

"You know, before there get to be too many other people around here..." He said, smiling the smile he wore when he got nervous.

"Yes?" She asked with her heart pounding slightly in anticipation.

"I'm gonna miss you, so...come back in one piece, okay?"

"Don't die?" She asked with a sad, yet amused, smile.

He nodded.

"Yes, sir." She said with all of the hidden affection she'd ever offered in those simple words in years past.

"Good. Just wanted to get that out of the way before Daniel and everyone else gets here."

"Sir?" She asked, inhaling, as she looked at him.

"Yes, Carter?"

"I'm gonna miss you too," she admitted before returning to her packing. "Just wanted you to know..."

She was unaware that Jack's eyes followed her every movement as he regretted leaving every word of their singular admission in the isolation room nearly nine years earlier. With Woolsey's latest underhanded attempt at discrediting SG-1, she'd been left holding the bag, and it tore him up inside. But Carter was all about taking things in stride and her cool composure had informed him about his place - at the Pentagon where she'd ordered him.

Maybe one day...

"Can you pass me one of those pairs of socks?"

Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he reached for it. "Here."

"Thanks." She said, offering a gentle smile before she turned her attention back to her packing.

Maybe one day, he thought again as he resolved once again to respect her unspoken desire to continue life in normal operation. Just...not today.


	2. Resignation

"Good morning, General," Lieutenant Carol Hamilton greeted as Jack walked in the door to his office. She handed him a thermos full of coffee as she looked at the PDA she held in the other hand. "The White House Chief of Staff called and left a message. He said that the President wanted to speak to you ASAP," she began as she started the daily review of the agenda. "Mr. Brown from the IOA requested a meeting. He'll be here at eleven. General Landry is in your office, waiting to tell you about the progress his task force has been making in cleaning up the Trust."

Jack raised his hand to stop her. "That's enough for now, Carol. Thanks."

She nodded, efficiently. "Yes, sir."

Jack walked into his office as Hank turned to look at the Lieutenant General with a smile. "Jack!"

"Hank." Jack said, managing a smile as he turned to his friend. "How are you?"

"Good. I'm good." Hank said, shaking the General's hand. "How about you?"

"Ah, well..." Jack said, shrugging. "Pissing off the IOA, reading reports, making daily reports to the Joint Chiefs and the President..."

"That good, huh?" Hank asked with a chuckle.

Jack managed a thin laugh as he stepped behind the desk. "Have a seat, Hank. How's everything going?"

"Well, I think my work is almost finished." He said, soberly. "We've made some significant headway in our investigation."

"I know that, Hank." Jack said, sitting back and taking a sip of his coffee. "I read the report."

"Right." Hank said, nodding.

"Why are you really here?" Jack asked, eyeing his friend seriously.

Hank sighed. "I know it's none of my business..." He began slowly.

Jack's eyes widened. "But?"

"But there are a lot of questions flying around Washington about you and Colonel Carter."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Word is that they've found proof."

Jack's head snapped up. "What?"

"Something someone unearthed from Hammond's personal files..."

"If Hammond suspected anything inappropriate, he would have drawn up charges, Hank." Jack said, soberly. "You know that."

"Would he?" Hank asked, soberly. "How many counts of insubordination did he overlook over the course of your work with him?"

Jack exhaled. "Well, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to incriminate himself by keeping evidence like that in his personal files if he actually considered it insubordination."

"I agree. There's something that smells awfully political about this," Landry said, nodding. "But I'd watch my six if I were you. Carter's already feeling the ice from Washington, and the last thing we need is for you to be frozen out of the Pentagon."

Jack sighed. "Well, thanks for the concern."

"I consider both you and Colonel Carter good friends, Jack," he said, seriously. "I don't want to see either of you put on trial for something like that after everything you've both done for this country and for the world."

"Thanks, Hank," Jack said, soberly.

"Look, you're a busy man," Landry said, standing. "I should let you get back to work."

"Yes, the President doesn't wait well if he asks for a callback ASAP." Jack said with a sardonic sigh.

"I'll show myself out," Hank said, nodding toward the door. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do," Jack said, nodding as he began to dial the President's number with the phone on his desk.

"White House," a woman greeted amicably.

"This is Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill. President Hayes asked..."

"I'll patch you right through."

He looked at the phone in surprise. He hadn't ever gotten this kind of a response, even when he'd been in charge of the SGC and had a disaster on his hands, he'd never seen such a quick reaction from the secretary who answered the President's personal extension.

"Jack!"

"Mr. President," Jack said, almost hesitantly.

"Jack, we need to talk."

"I had a feeling," he said, soberly.

"Jack, there's blood in the water and the sharks are circling." Henry Hayes said, almost apologetically. "And, unfortunately, while there's no end to blood in the water on Capitol Hill, the sharks are circling around you."

"And Colonel Carter, I hear." He said, slightly annoyed.

"Jack," Henry sighed. "I want to protect you from this. But unfortunately, I think you've pissed off the wrong people lately."

Jack was silent.

"The IOA says they have proof that you and Colonel Carter have had an inappropriate affair. They're calling for action."

Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "So, what's the bottom line, Mr. President?"

"I hate to do this to you, Jack, but..." The Commander in Chief hesitated for a few moments.

"You want my resignation."

"Either that or face the possibility that the IOA will push for court-martial."

Jack was silent for a moment, thinking. "Do you need it right now or do I have a little while to think about it?"

"I think I can stall everyone until five pm tonight."

"Thank you, sir." He said after a moment. "I'll be in touch."

"Again, Jack..."

"I know. You're sorry," Jack interrupted. "Thank you, Mr. President."

He hung up the phone with a sigh before he stood and walked over to his office door. "Carol?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cancel my meetings. I'm taking the day off."

* * *

He was getting a lot of odd looks as he walked aimlessly through the DC park – a Lieutenant General in full dress uniform wasn't a common sight to behold after all – but Jack O'Neill wasn't paying much attention to the masses. His thoughts were still completely consumed by the President's phone call, the IOA's agenda, and the blonde Colonel who had walked into the briefing room nearly thirteen years ago unknowingly laying the foundations of his turmoil.

He sighed. The accusation of fraternization with Samantha Carter wasn't entirely without merit. After all, they'd found themselves in more than a few compromising situations, and he was almost surprised that this hadn't come up earlier.

And then, he remembered George Hammond.

Jack shook his head. If he'd been standing between the two officers who'd been the "stars" of the frontline team for so many years and the IOA since the beginning, it was no wonder that a heart attack had finally claimed the man. "Thanks, George," he murmured, looking heavenward for just a moment. He looked back down to where he was kicking the pebbles off the path, aimlessly.

It had become apparent early in their time as SG-1 that the blonde astrophysicist could be the author of his undoing if she so chose. Within a few months of bringing Daniel Jackson back through the Gate to Earth, she had attacked him in the locker room with only one thought on her mind.

Jack tried to shake the memory from his mind, but it was too close. Too real.

"_I want you," she said, huskily as she bent down and kissed him aggressively. "Don't you want me?"_

"_I…what? No. Carter, not like this."_

And then, he'd confronted Daniel in the control room, hitting the archaeologist for simply asking about Sam's well-being.

They all knew that it had been an alien influence, but the IOA would see it as just another situation in which the SGC had been compromised to a higher degree than the bureaucrats were comfortable.

Jack sighed. He knew that they were looking for a sacrificial lamb to put on the altar of their pride, but he also knew that if he resigned and laid his own body onto that altar, that they would not be able to resist taking Carter too, and that he couldn't let them do. By resigning, he would effectively admit that there had been an inappropriate relationship between himself and a subordinate officer. And then, through implication and rumor, Carter, too, would find herself jobless.

Sure, she had her science background on which she could fall back and that she wouldn't be left without work entirely like he would be, but Jack knew, probably better than anyone, that it was the ability to do both at the same time that made her so passionate about her work at the SGC. She hadn't had to sacrifice either in order to do the other.

On the other hand, if this was brought to court-martial, he thought grimly, she could be served to testify at the very least, and arrested for fraternization with a superior officer at the very worst.

It was a classic lose/lose situation.

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a vibration in his pocket. His cell phone, he thought with a sigh. Was his job never finished?

He reached for the offending piece of technology and looked at the Caller ID. Unknown, it read. He stuck it back in his pocket. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone today – especially not someone who wasn't even in his contacts. No, he would ignore them, and keep trying to figure out what to do.

He sat down on a bench as the vibrating finally ended. He sighed in relief. It was about time they left him alone. To his dismay, a moment later, he felt another vibration. The indication of a message left in his voicemail. He sighed. The world never seemed to stay saved, even when he didn't feel much like saving it. He lifted the phone to his ear and quickly dialed his voicemail, even entering the passcode to get into the mailbox, as a minor curiosity came over him to find out who had called him.

"Hi, Sir."

His blood froze. Where normally a phone call from Samantha Carter would have brought a smile to his lips in an otherwise dull and boring day, he felt shame and frustration. Not because of her, he reminded himself, but because of those pencil-pushing idiots who had the gall to….

"I'm just on leave from the _George Hammond_ for a few days while it gets repaired." She continued, interrupting his rant. "I'm coming out to DC to visit my dad's grave, and I thought maybe we could get lunch while I was there. Give me a call." She paused. "Um…I have one of those prepaid cell phones, and the number is…uh, let me get it…" He could hear the shuffling of the papers over the phone. "Here it is. Uh…425-960-8343. Like I said, give me a call, and we'll have lunch. I should be there Monday or Tuesday at the latest. I'll see you. Bye."

He sighed as he hung up the phone. This was going to get tricky.


	3. Visit

Samantha Carter walked down the familiar corridors of the Pentagon, more confused and nervous than she'd been for a long time. Three days ago, she had called Jack O'Neill, telling him that she was going to be in DC. And despite additional attempts to talk to him – through his home phone, secretary, and email – she had gotten no response.

He was either an exceedingly busy man or he wanted nothing more to do with her. She swallowed. The truth was that there were elements of both that worried her. Jack had never been the workaholic. That had always been her. And if he'd decided to arbitrarily end even their friendship, she wanted to know why.

She always wanted to know why.

"Colonel Carter?" Major Davis greeted with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Major Davis," she returned with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm…I'm fine. And you?"

"I'm fine, Major. Thank you for asking."

His gaze flickered over to Jack O'Neill's office door, where he'd probably just come from, and Sam finally recognized the expression in his eyes. He was nervous. Concerned for some reason. "Is something wrong?" She asked, following his gaze.

"Oh," he said, shaking his head. "No. Nothing. Just…remembered something I forgot to do."

"All right," she said, surprised.

"It was good to see you, Colonel." He finally managed before darting away.

She watched him scurry away, her brow furrowed. What was going on?

She took the next few steps toward the door to Jack's office, taking a moment to inhale before she put her hand on the knob and opened the door.

"Colonel Carter!"

Lieutenant Hamilton's greeting seemed shocked as if her arrival at the Pentagon was less than a pleasant surprise. Sam swallowed before forcing a smile to her lips. "Hello, Lieutenant. Is General O'Neill in?"

She opened her mouth to speak as the masculine voice Sam had become so familiar interrupted. "I'm right here, Carter."

She turned with a smile on her lips. "Hello, sir."

"What are you doing here?"

For a man who consistently teased his friend about not greeting him before jumping right into the heart of the matter, Jack was being awfully direct and succinct.

"I…I didn't know if you'd gotten any of my messages," she managed limply.

There was a barely perceptible nod from the General. "I've been busy."

Sam swallowed, studying his eyes for a moment. Where once there had been warmth and good humor, there was only worry and confusion. Now, she knew something was wrong. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, honestly. "I shouldn't have come…"

"I was on my way out myself." He said, only marginally more sympathetic. "I'll walk you to your car."

She nodded, slowly. "Thank you, sir."

As they walked toward the door, Sam could feel the Lieutenant's eyes on them. Something was definitely wrong, she thought yet again with a chill that ran down her spine.

They walked in silence down the corridor, and Sam could see the looks – of pity, of disgust, of apology, of irritation – on several passing officers' faces. What could have happened here that would engender such reactions?

"Sir," she murmured after a few moments. "I should have realized that you had a reason not to call me back. I shouldn't have…"

"Stop, Carter," Jack said, turning to her with a stern rebuke in his eyes as if to tell her that this hadn't been her fault.

Her brow furrowed for the hundredth time since she'd come into the Pentagon. She'd come to read this man like a book – as they'd needed to do in their jobs. Why wasn't he saying what he meant?

They were silent until they reached the parking garage.

"You got a car or do you need a ride?"

"I came by cab." She said, shaking her head.

"I'll drop you off then," he said as he walked to where he'd parked his new SUV, unlocking it with the keyfob. "Where are you staying?"

"Uh…the Marriott…just a few blocks down the street. On Army Navy Drive."

"I know where it is," he said as they both got into the car.

She pulled the seatbelt across her body and fastened it to the buckle as Jack began to pull out of the reserved parking space.

"Are you going to tell me what just happened back there?" She asked, quietly.

"Sorry, Carter," he said as they pulled out of the garage and onto the DC streets.

"Sir, I didn't serve with you for eight years without learning a thing or two about how you operate," she said, soberly. "You were up to something. You were afraid of someone overhearing something or the place was bugged…I assume that you've made sure your car isn't bugged. I mean, so you can tell me exactly what is…"

"Carter," he interrupted, raising a hand to silence her.

She swallowed, falling silent.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I was busy. Things are getting a little complicated at work."

"Complicated how?"

They reached the hotel, and Jack pulled up to the front door. "Carter, if taking the job on the _George Hammond_ had been like an admission that you screwed up on Atlantis, would you do it again?"

Her brow furrowed. What kind of a question was that?

"And if, by admitting that you'd screwed up on Atlantis, you knew that you would make my word virtually worthless, would you still take the job?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't think I'm following," she said, confused.

"Just…answer the question." Jack said, a rare flicker of vulnerability appearing in his eyes.

"Well, sir," she said with a small sigh. "I guess it would depend on the circumstances. And what my other options were."

"Assume that the other option was staying on Atlantis and taking the chance that doing so wouldn't lead to court-martial."

"Well, sir, I guess in that case," she said, thoughtfully. "I'd…I'm not sure what I would do. But I'd probably think about what you would do, and I know that you would risk the court-martial because you'd know that you hadn't done anything wrong."

Jack swallowed, nodding slowly after a few moments.

"Are you sure everything's all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, forcing a lighthearted chuckle. "I was just curious. That's all. Maybe next time you're on leave, we can take a team trip to the cabin."

She offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'd like that, sir."

She opened the door and slipped out of the car.

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?" She asked, turning back to face him.

He swallowed. "Good luck."

"You too, sir."


	4. News

"Colonel Carter," one of the technicians said, interrupting Sam's thoughts as she stood on the bridge of the _U.S.S. George Hammond_.

"Yes, Major?" She asked, turning to him.

"We're receiving a communication from the SGC. It's Daniel Jackson. He requests a video conference with you."

"Set it up," she said with a small, but troubled smile as she thought once more about General O'Neill's odd behavior at the Pentagon two weeks previously. She shook the thoughts from her mind as she quickly made her way to the quarters and turned on her computer.

Within moments, the occasionally absent-minded archaeologist appeared on the screen, speaking to another person off-screen, probably one of the Gate technicians or another archaeologist, about a device which had come back through the Stargate with one of the teams after one of their latest missions. The familiar sights and sounds of the Gate room made her heart ache with the kind of homesickness that she hadn't experienced since her first year as a cadet at the Academy. She missed the SGC – the people, the work, and the adventure of it all. The personnel had become like a family to her, and not just the members of SG-1 either, General Hammond, Janet Fraiser, and Walter had come to be as dear to her as her own family.

She swallowed. It wasn't that she disliked her crew on the _George Hammond_. They had proven to be as loyal and capable as the best of the SGC personnel. But she hadn't had the time or the inclination to develop with them the same kinds of complex personal relationships that she'd developed with the others. After all, she was the commander, and she had to remain at least somewhat impartial. As she had needed to be on Atlantis.

She felt her eyes moisten as she thought of her friends, past and present, alive and dead. She quickly wiped at them, stopping any more thought of the people she'd lost over the years as she coughed to signal her readiness to the oblivious archaeologist.

"Oh," he said, turning back to the screen. "Sam. Uh…just…just a second."

She chuckled softly. His absent-mindedness was somewhat endearing, especially now that it had become more rare than during their first few years as a team. She rightly attributed the change to his years of enduring Jack's persistent interruptions. Even now, she sometimes paused in her work because it had been too long since she'd been affectionately badgered by the officer.

Who was now distancing himself from her in any way he could think of.

"Okay, I'm back."

Sam managed a thin smile. "Hi, Daniel. How is everything?"

He managed a strained smile. "Uh…I'm fine. Vala's fine. Teal'c, Mitchell…they're fine too."

She studied the archaeologist's face for a moment. "How's General O'Neill?" She asked, knowing that the source of his concern was most likely the same source of her own.

Daniel looked surprised for a moment, as if he hadn't considered that Sam would know anything about the news that he was about to share with her. "He's…been arrested."

She rocked back in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been that. "Arrested? Why?"

Daniel's gaze flickered off-screen, a signal of his discomfort.

"What is it, Daniel?" She pressed.

"He's, uh," he began slowly. "He's being court-martialed."

Her eyes widened, and she just sat there for a moment. Sure, he had a history of insubordination, but despite that he'd been promoted to Lieutenant General. And insubordination was virtually impossible that far up the chain of command.

Suddenly, she felt a sick feeling grow in the pit of her stomach. Woolsey's memo.

"Sam, they're charging him with fraternization with a subordinate officer."

She felt dizzy and nauseated as everything came together. Jack's question about what she would do if accepting the assignment on the _George Hammond_ was an admission of guilt, his sudden coolness, the strange looks at the Pentagon. "With me," she whispered. "They're accusing him of having an inappropriate relationship with me."

"Sam, he didn't want you to know…"

"When," she interrupted.

"He's still meeting with his lawyer. He'd be angry if he knew that I'd told you, so I don't think you need to show up tomorrow or anything, but…"

It doesn't look good, she finished internally. "Thank you, Daniel, for telling me." She said, quietly. "But I can't just stay here and do nothing. I'll be there as soon as I can find a replacement."

He swallowed. "I'll, uh, see you, then."


	5. Why

There was no warning the following evening before Jack felt the familiar tug of an Asgard beam on his molecules. Suddenly, he appeared in his own cabin. "Hello?" He managed in surprise.

"You're an idiot."

Jack turned around slowly to find Samantha Carter standing behind him, her arms folded across her chest, with a look of anger and irritation.

"Excuse me?" He managed, surprised by her antagonistic tone.

"Next time you want my opinion on how to handle something, just ask. Don't try to protect me." She said, releasing her arms so that they could return to her sides and taking a step toward him.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

"I'm not falling for that, Jack. You know exactly what I'm talking about." She said, coolly.

He let the façade fall. "Who told you?"

"That doesn't matter, Jack. The point is that you didn't tell me."

"Sam," he said with a small sigh.

"This is a court-martial, Jack," she said, soberly.

"I know."

She swallowed. "They…th…this isn't just about you, Jack. I deserved at least a little bit of a heads up."

"Sam, they've already gone after you." He said with a heavy sigh. "Which is why you're on a ship in the middle of nowhere instead of Atlantis."

She flinched.

He sighed, walking over to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink.

"Skipping straight to the hard stuff?" She asked, watching him closely.

"I don't have any beer, and I'd really rather not have this conversation while I'm sober."

She sighed as she watched him for a few moments. "How do you have your defense planned?"

Jack offered a derisive, but loud, laugh. "Defense? Carter, I just got handed the arrest warrant a week ago. And you want to talk about my defense?"

"Fine then, when's the court date?" She pressed. "I need to tell Landry how long I need a replacement."

"You're not staying here." He ordered.

"We can't afford to just turn a blind eye here, and let things run their course." She said, pointedly.

"Is that what you people think I do all day?" He yelled, turning on her so suddenly, that she shrank back in surprise. "Turn a blind eye and let things run their course? Dammit, Carter, if you think that, then maybe you should stay here and let them tear YOUR career to shreds while they try to prove that every one of your promotions from Major to Colonel were just thank you gifts for sexual favors."

She tensed. That sick feeling was coming back to the pit of her stomach. She'd never seen Jack quite like this, and she wasn't sure she ever wanted to see it again. "I just meant…"

"I know what you meant," he said, calming down a little as the despair settled in around him like a dark cloud. "You meant what Hank Landry meant. You meant what Henry Hayes meant." He sighed as he sank into one of the dining room chairs, his head hung down in defeat. "You think I made a mistake. Just like they all do."

Sam studied him for a moment. He'd never looked so defeated in all the years she'd known him. Finally, she knelt in front of him. "No, I don't."

His head snapped up in surprise.

"I do think it was a little poorly thought out." She admitted. "I mean, you asked for and took my advice on a completely made up and different scenario, but that's neither here nor there." She breathed slowly, looking down at the floor in an effort to gather strength before she looked back into his eyes. "The choice has been made, and now, we have to do our best to accept the consequences, okay?"

He nodded slowly as she moved into the chair beside him.

"Now, do you have any idea what evidence they're going to present in court?"

"Evidence?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"I just want to know if it's primarily a circumstantial case or if they have some…ace up their sleeve that will remove all reasonable doubt."

"You'd have to talk to my lawyer," he said, shrugging. "But the only thing I've heard of, so far, is that the IOA supposedly found something in Hammond's personal files."

Her eyebrow shot up. "Hammond didn't have any personal files. At least, not about his work with the SGC."

"That's what I thought," he agreed.

She inhaled before she continued thinking. "As far as you know, though, there's no secret footage from the locker room thing, there's no transcript of the whole za'tarc thing…"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then, that's circumstantial enough." Sam said, standing.

"Carter," Jack said, his voice stopping her for a moment.

"Yes?"

"Don't do this."

"And if they convict you?" She asked, quietly. "Who do you think they'll come after next? I'm not going anywhere."

She won a thin smile from Jack, and she admitted to herself that she was out of her element. This was like those detective novels that Mark had read as a kid, and she was poorly equipped to come out conqueror.

Fortunately, she remembered, she had help.

* * *

"Malcolm," she greeted, standing from where she sat in the outdoor café.

"Samantha," he said with a smile. "When my receptionist told me that you had called, I thought for sure she was mistaken. But here you are."

"Here I am," she said, managing a grim smile as they sat down together. "I assume you've heard about General O'Neill?"

"Anyone who has ever worked with the guy knows about him," Barrett said with a nod. "Not to mention the rumors for why he's been charged."

"What kind of rumors?" She asked, hoping to hear something other than the speculation that she'd been the "subordinate officer" with whom he'd been accused of fraternizing.

Barrett inhaled. "Well, some of them explain why you're coming to me on his behalf," he said, carefully. "And some of them have to do with the reasons that IOA even decided to press for action."

"What are the reasons?" She asked, ignoring the first set of rumors.

"After you tell me if it's true or not." He said, looking over at her.

"Jack O'Neill is like family to me." She said, seriously. "Like Daniel and Teal'c, and even Vala and Mitchell have come to be."

"So you two have a…brother-sister relationship."

"Malcolm," she sighed. "Does it even matter? You and I both know that the only reason the IOA is calling for action is because they're frustrated with SG-1. They have been since before they were even formed, and that memo you sent me started this campaign to get us out of way. I want to know why."

"The rumor is that the IOA wants the SGC under complete civilian control."

"They tried that with Elizabeth Weir." Sam said, shaking her head. "It won't work."

"It won't work as long as Jack O'Neill is credible," he corrected.

"You've got to be kidding me." She said, sitting back with a sigh.

"Hammond's death provided them with the perfect opportunity to peruse the General's files and find something that they might use to bring O'Neill down."

"Hammond didn't have any files like that. I know some General's do, but Hammond wasn't the kind of man to have two sets of files."

"He was in the process of writing a book, Sam." Barrett insisted.

"If you think he would have written something in a personal report that he wouldn't have sent to the Pentagon, you're wrong," she said, shaking her head. "The man had more integrity than almost anyone else I know in the entire United States military."

"Well, the IOA hasn't exactly been known to play by the rules." Barrett said after a moment.

"You're suggesting that they would forge a document to frame him."

Barrett shrugged. "We are talking about an organization which was, for at least a period of time, under Vice President Kinsey's control."

"And we have no idea if Ba'al was able to influence anyone when he was over the Trust."

Barrett flinched, almost unconsciously, at the thought of his own part in the goa'uld's escape.

"The why can only help us so much," she said, recognizing how uncomfortable he had grown. "Now, we have to figure out how to fix it."

"I'll make some calls." He said, looking at her. "I can't promise anything, but I can try."

"That would really help." She said, gratefully.

Barrett watched her for a few moments. "Be careful, okay?" He said with a sigh. "Because if you're too much emotional about this, only your closest friends are going to buy the family story."

She tensed.

"Just…" He said, standing. "Be careful, okay?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah…sure."


	6. Intruder

Sam sighed softly as she climbed the stairs to her second-floor hotel room in DC. She had done so much legwork today, and there was still so much to be done. She needed to know more – about what the IOA had planned, about the role that she played in it all, and how to keep Jack from falling on his sword, so to speak. She reached into her purse as she reached her room, trying to find the magnetic card that would open the door.

With a quick swipe, she unlocked the door and opened it, stepping into the room.

Instantly, she was on alert. The lights in her small room were on, and she had made certain that she had turned them off when she'd left earlier. She tensed, her military instincts kicking in. She crept down the corridor, hoping that the intruder hadn't heard her entrance. But he probably had.

"Don't bother trying to subdue me, Colonel. It's a waste of your time."

The voice was unfamiliar, but still, she played along, knowing that if it came to it, she would be able to hold her own. Especially with the nine millimeter she had stuffed in the waistband of her jeans and hidden with a simple leather jacket. She stepped out of the shadows to get a glimpse of her intruder. "Do I know you?" She asked, studying the lanky man, dressed in an expensive suit, who sat in the armchair which sat in the corner of the room opposite her.

His lips curled into a small smile as if he was enjoying a private joke at her expense. "My name is Gregory Nelson, attorney-at-law."

She raised one eyebrow as if she was only mildly interested in what he had to say. The attorney was a young man, no more than thirty years old, with sharp features and pronounced cheek bones. In fact, he looked like a thinner and taller version of Richard Woolsey, who had a voice that was high and pinched as if he was still awaiting puberty.

"I hear that you had my client beamed out of his house."

"Your client?" She asked as if she couldn't figure it out on her own.

"Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill."

She had a hard time believing that Jack had hired the man, who reminded her of almost all of the IOA representatives she had ever met. She wondered who had been behind choosing this attorney for Jack, who had the reputation of disliking lawyers and politicians in general. "How did you get in here?" She asked, coolly.

"Housekeeping."

"Of course," she said with a disapproving smile.

"It's only breaking and entering if I do it in your home." He said, smugly.

"I don't know that General O'Neill will see it the same way," she said, simply.

"Colonel, you may believe that you're acting in the best interests of my client by interfering, but I assure you that you are mistaken."

"Am I?" She asked, evenly.

"By getting involved, you are just adding to the possibility of having similar charges brought against yourself."

"It's not your job to worry about me." She said, folding her arms across her chest.

"If you're also charged with fraternization, there will be a greater implication that my client is guilty."

"If General O'Neill doesn't want me involved, he can ask me himself. It's never been his style to work through someone else, and I don't expect that would change now."

"I warn you, Colonel…" The attorney said, getting somewhat flustered.

Her eyes grew hard as she took a few steps closer to him. "I don't suggest you threaten me again, counselor. Now, I believe your business is concluded."

The younger man swallowed before he hastily walked toward the door.

Sam exhaled as the man finally left. He was definitely in league with the IOA. How? She didn't know yet.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Carter?" She asked herself with a small sigh.

* * *

"Well done," the sarcastic voice said from the darkness. "I really think she bought it."

"She can't be reasoned with. She's not going to back down." Nelson said, almost surprised.

"We never believed that she would." The other voice said, soberly.

"Then, wh…"

"You don't need to know," the first voice snapped. "All you need to know is that we've got all we need."

The young attorney swallowed.

"The deposit has been made into your account. Now, go home and forget this ever happened."

The attorney bit his lip before nodding and slipping away back into the shadows.


	7. Abduction

Sam looked out the window with the trained eyes of a soldier. Something was in the air. She could almost feel it closing in on her. Bogus charges of an inappropriate affair, leveled at her former commanding officer, were only a cover for something bigger.

She still wasn't exactly sure what that was – corruption, to be certain, but she still didn't know the source or the reason behind it. Truthfully, it could be almost anything from power to money or to revenge. And once she deduced the motive behind the frame-up, she hoped she could end the court proceedings.

Her cell phone vibrated, and she looked warily at the caller ID only to manage a small half-smile. Daniel. She picked up the phone, and put it to her ear. "Hi, Daniel."

"How's it going?"

She sighed. "Can't you ask a different question?"

"That well, huh?"

"A man claiming to be Jack's attorney was in my room when I got home. When I checked with the front desk, they denied telling him which room was mine."

"But?" The archaeologist prodded.

"I saw one of the other guests as he was leaving. He said that he hoped things were going well between me and my husband."

"Husband?"

"Apparently," she said, grimly.

"So either the front desk lied, and they did tell him what room you were staying in, or he's had you tailed."

"Neither would surprise me at this juncture," she admitted.

"Sam, what exactly is going on?"

"Daniel, trust me." She said with a sigh. "If I understood it all, I'd tell you."

"Do you want me and Teal'c to come out? We could probably help at least a little."

"Actually, that would be good." She said, nodding. "General O'Neill and Agent Barrett are both concerned that if I involve myself too heavily in the investigation, I'll just add credibility to the charges, and get myself arrested too."

"All right, where should we meet you?"

"Call when you get here. I'll pick you up." She said, unwilling to admit over the telephone her suspicions that the room had been bugged by the very intruder who had surprised her that evening.

"Sure thing, Sam. Get some sleep, okay?"

She smiled softly at the concern. "You too, Daniel.

She closed the phone, and turned out the lights, placing the gun in the nightstand for protection. She knew things were getting bad, but what she didn't know was that not thirty yards away from where he'd been promised payment, Gregory Nelson, attorney-at-law, lay dead in the street in a pool of his own blood.

* * *

A sound. Some nebulous and fleeting sound had awoken her, Sam realized as her ears perked up in response. It wasn't uncommon for her to be a light sleeper in a place other than her home, but she felt instinct flare up. Something wasn't right, she realized as she opened her eyes.

Four black figures hovered over her bed, and she opened her mouth to scream, turning instantly to retrieve the gun in the nightstand as she prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep them from harming her. The nightstand was empty and a hand found its way around her mouth. Using the instincts for which she'd been praised many years before on a ha'tak, she bit down hard on the hand that gagged her.

"AH!" A voice cried, instantly, pulling his hand away from her lips.

"HELP! HELP ME!" She yelled as she hit the wall behind her with a free hand as the other intruders grabbed her legs and other arm. They dragged her away from the wall as they placed a pillow over her face to muffle the sound of her cries.

It was then that she felt the pinch of a needle and recognized how the icy fluid of what was probably a sedative mingled with the blood in her veins. Almost instantly, her head swam with dizziness. "Help," she managed, feebly, as they took the pillow from her face. Within seconds, she had gone completely limp in their arms.

"Let's go," one of the gruff voices commanded, turning to the others.


	8. Questions

"There's no sign of any intrusion," Barrett said with a sigh as he walked over to Daniel and Teal'c. "And her bags are gone. It looks like she just left without checking out."

"We just spoke to her yesterday," Daniel said, shaking his head. "She wouldn't have gone anywhere without telling us what was going on."

"Unless she was afraid that she was being tailed," Barrett said, soberly.

"You think she was being tailed?" He asked, instantly.

He shrugged. "If she was taken, these guys were beyond professional."

Daniel exhaled, worriedly. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Teal'c said, soberly.

* * *

Jack paced his apartment. "You've got to be kidding me."

"General, we're doing everything we can do to find her," Barrett said, soberly.

"I told her that she shouldn't get involved in this," Jack sighed, pressing against his temples. "What did she find?"

"Not much," Barrett said, shaking his head. "As far as I know, I was the only one she got in touch with, and I don't know very much."

"What did you two talk about?" Jack asked, instantly.

"Well, she was wondering who would want to bring this up."

"The IOA." Jack said, instantly. "I already know that."

"Yes, but she wanted to know why."

"They need a reason?"

"What was the reason?" Daniel asked, ignoring Jack's sarcastic comment.

Barrett grew somewhat uncomfortable. "The only rumor out there says that the IOA wants to make Stargate Command a completely civilian operation."

"So, why are they attacking Jack and Sam?"

"I can answer that," Jack said with a heavy sigh. "Elizabeth Weir actually told me this when she told me that I was being promoted to Brigadier."

"The whole "only one man who could make military control of the Stargate possible" thing?" Daniel asked, studying his friend.

Jack nodded, gravely.

"Then, why Sam?"

"She's his Achilles heel." Barrett said, studying the General.

Jack looked back at the NID agent as if wondering what the man was insinuating.

"Look, they're not stupid." Barrett said, soberly. "They know that if they trump up charges that are completely false, the Air Force will rally around you, and they won't be able to do a thing to oust you."

"But if there's a charge that is even remotely plausible…" Daniel began.

"They know that there's only one of those charges that could make Jack a disgrace to the Air Force."

"Fraternization."

Barrett nodded.

"So, she's just a prop. A tool."

Jack closed his eyes with a heavy sigh as he sat down on the couch. "So, what are they going to do with her now?"

"We don't know that they've got her," Barrett reminded.

"Like hell, we don't," the General said, his eyes hard.

"Daniel Jackson, did Colonel Carter not mention an intruder last evening?" Teal'c asked, turning to the archaeologist.

Instantly, Barrett and O'Neill turned their eyes to the other two. "Intruder?" Jack asked, instantly.

"Oh, right," Daniel said, nodding. "She said your lawyer was waiting for her in her room last night."

"MY lawyer?" Jack asked in surprise.

"I don't know what his name is, but…"

"Gregory Nelson. He was court-appointed." Jack said, instantly. "What was he doing there?"

"I don't think even Sam really knew. All she said to me was that if she understood what was going on, she would tell us."

"And then, she disappeared." Jack said, reaching for his phone. "Something tells me that she understood enough." He quickly dialed a number, and put the receiver to his ear. He waited a few moments before speaking. "Nelson, Carter's missing, and I hear that you were the last one to see her. I want answers, Nelson. And I want them now."

He hung up the phone angrily. "No answer. He's connected somehow."

"I'll look into it," Barrett said, instantly putting his own cell to his ear as he left the apartment.

"We will locate Colonel Carter, O'Neill." Teal'c said, stoically.

"Yeah," Daniel said, much less convincingly. "I mean, when Conrad kidnapped her, we found her. When she was in that gas cloud on the _Prometheus_, we found her – well, actually it was more like she found us, but still…she didn't disappear. And with the locator beacon signal thing we all have so that we can be beamed up, it's gonna be a cinch."

"If it's not," Jack said with his eyes hooded, "the IOA is going to find that they have a whole new problem with Jack O'Neill. No one messes with my team."

* * *

Her head was throbbing. Every thought swirled like oil on raging rapids. Yeah, she'd been drugged. Sam opened her eyes, but the examination light pierced her eyes too forcefully and the room spun too quickly. She wanted to be sick.

"Colonel," a patronizing voice greeted. "How nice of you to join us."

"Go to hell," she managed, blinking quickly as she tried to clear her vision.

"Now, now, that's not the way to greet your doctor," he said, calmly. "Especially when so many women your age pay thousands of dollars to see a specialist like me."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion as she felt the administration of yet another sedative. What was he doing to her? Help, her weakly conscious mind begged. Somebody, help me.


	9. Answers

"Nelson didn't show up to work this morning." Barrett announced, walking back into O'Neill's apartment.

"Sounds like we just found who has Sam," Daniel said, instantly.

Barrett shook his head. "Nelson just didn't show up for work. He didn't even call in sick."

"So?"

"So, he also missed a court date. The judge has a warrant out for his arrest. He's being held in contempt."

"What?" Daniel asked, suddenly interested.

"My guess is that he's not going to in a position to appear in court again," Barrett said with a sigh. "We've got calls into the hospitals in the area, looking for him and for John Does matching his description."

"That can't be coincidence," Daniel said, looking at the others in the group.

"I don't think so either," Barrett admitted. "It's too convenient. Someone was covering up their tracks."

"So what now?" Jack asked, turning to the group.

"We look for Nelson, and try to find out who he was really working for. Then, hopefully we'll find her." He turned to Jack specifically. "And I suggest you find a new attorney and request a continuance. If we can prove that there's something else going on here, you may just be off the hook."

Jack nodded, soberly. "I just wish no one else had to be involved," he sighed, reaching for his phone.

"Wait," Daniel interrupted.

He caught the attention of the other three men in the room.

"What if that's what the IOA wants?"

"What other options do we have?" Jack asked after thinking for a few moments.

"Just as long as we all know what we're getting into," Daniel said with a worried smile.

* * *

"How is our guest?"

The doctor smiled instantly. "She's responding very well. We should be ready to begin implantation within a few days."

"As long as it's exactly on schedule." The first voice said, earnestly. "Barrett, O'Neill and his team are following the trail nicely, but if anything goes wrong, they could be on top of us in no time."

"Like I said, it shouldn't be more than two or three days before we're ready for implantation."

"Good. Another few hours on top of your few days, and she'll be ready to return."

The doctor nodded before walking back in to treat his patient.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this." Richard Woolsey said, stepping out of the shadows as he turned to his companion.

"Oh?"

"I just…it seems like we're crossing a line."

"Lines were made to be crossed, Mr. Woolsey." The first voice said, not concerned by the bureaucrat's sense of conscience. "I thought you wanted the Stargate in your control."

"Not MY control," he corrected. "But a civilian program, yes."

"This is the quickest way," he said, turning back to look through the observation window. "I'm sure you won't be disappointed by the end results when you receive word on Atlantis."

Woolsey swallowed, the feel of wrong-doing tugging at his conscience. "I'm…sure I'll find it quite…effective."


	10. Attempted Rescue

_Two days later:_

"We've finally found Nelson." Barrett announced, looking up from his phone call as he turned to Daniel and Teal'c. "He's in the county morgue – police say he was a victim of a mugging about three blocks from Colonel Carter's hotel."

"You know, it would be nice to get at least ONE lead that wasn't scrubbed in one way or another," Daniel said, shaking his head. "I…I almost feel like someone wants us to find all of these clues. I mean, they're so careful in some ways – cleaning out Sam's hotel room so that it looked like she'd simply left, removing the beacon that tells the Asgard beaming technology where she is – but then, they turn around and leave a giant reminder that they're in control – like killing Nelson only a few blocks away from the hotel. It's like they want us to know that there's something wrong, but that there's nothing we can do about it."

"As do I, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c admitted.

"Perhaps," a familiar voice said from the doorway. "I can be of assistance there."

They all turned, and Jack's eyes narrowed. "No, thanks. I think you've done enough."

"I know you don't think I can be trusted," he said, slowly. "And I know you have more than enough experience to say that I can only make the situation worse."

"But?" Daniel prodded.

"No, no, that about sums it up," Jack interrupted.

Daniel threw him a look.

"The IOA doesn't know I'm here. And I'm really only here because it's not far from the airport."

"You've already covered your butt, Richard," Jack snapped. "What the hell do you want?"

Woolsey swallowed before handing a slip of paper to Barrett. "I once told Colonel Carter that I'd grown to respect her command decisions. Know that…despite whatever happens, I still hold that opinion."

He turned to leave, but Jack was on him in an instant. "What did you do to her?" He demanded with his hands on the delegate's collar.

Woolsey's eyes were wide with fear, but it wasn't entirely about what Jack would do with the man's life in his hands. It was about something much greater.

"General," Barrett said, pulling the officer's hands off the civilian. "Please…"

"What's going on here, Woolsey?" Daniel asked, studying the man, closely. "What are you afraid of?"

"H-he…he's crazy. I thought he was just going to get results, but…"

"But what?" Barrett prompted.

"Tell Colonel Carter I'm sorry," the lawyer pleaded before he scurried away.

Jack jaw clenched in anger as he turned back toward the room. "That smarmy, self-righteous son of a…"

"I have her location," Barrett interrupted.

They all turned. "What?"

"An abandoned warehouse." He said, raising the sheet for them to see. "In northern California."

"Let's go." Jack said, reaching for a jacket.

"All due respect, sir," Barrett said, stopping him. "But you can't. Not unless the judge gives you a travel pass."

"He's right," Daniel admitted, almost apologetically.

"Okay, then, you three go. Barrett, you call out the troops." He gritted his teeth. "I have a judge to see, and then, I'll join you."

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" The doctor asked, entering the observation room where the man in the shadows watched the procedure.

"Yes," he said, still looking down at Carter from the window.

"I've just received word that our friend Richard Woolsey has informed O'Neill and the others. They'll be here in a matter of hours. Can she be moved?"

"Ideally, I'd have a few more hours to watch her vitals," the doctor said, worriedly. "But I suppose she could be moved…"

"Good. Get her ready for transport. I want the entire facility packed up in five minutes. We'll have her ready for the next phase before they even get here."

"Yes, sir."

The doctor left the room as the veiled man turned to another sitting beside him. "See that Richard Woolsey has an unfortunate accident."

"Of course," the second man said with an eerie, thin smile.

* * *

Jack sat outside the judge's chambers with a small sigh. Of all the people on his team, he shouldn't be the person stuck in DC, waiting. He should be the one knocking down the walls of that abandoned warehouse and rescuing Sam.

That's what he did – save lives. Not sit around and wait to hear about how other people fared.

He grimaced as he realized that was exactly what he'd been doing. In all the time he'd been in DC, he'd sat around, giving orders and watching them get carried out. It was something he'd thought he'd wanted, but now, he realized just what it had cost him.

"General O'Neill," a deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

Jack looked up to see the judge looking at him. "Sir, I have a few things to discuss with you. Hopefully, it won't take long."

The man in the black robe motioned to his office. "Come on in."

Jack nodded, standing before stepping into the room.

"What is it?"

"My attorney was found dead two days ago. I need to find another attorney."

"It's unfortunate, but I'd be happy to appoint another."

Jack grimaced for a moment. This judge had appointed the last one, and that had been part of the trouble. "Thank you, Your Honor, but I think maybe I'll look for my own attorney. At least for a little while."

The judge shrugged. "It makes no difference to me, General. Is that all?"

"No, sir," Jack said, shaking his head. "I have business to attend to in northern California. I was hoping to get a travel pass for a few days."

The judge raised an eyebrow as he studied the other man. "Northern California, huh? What kind of business?"

Jack swallowed. "A friend of mine…is having a few personal problems. I'm doing the best I can by telephone, but…"

"And you know for sure that they're in northern California," the judge interrupted. "You're not just going to come back and ask for a pass to go somewhere else?"

Jack bit the inside of his lip. Truth was, by the time he got the pass, they were probably going to be finished rescuing Sam. Or still looking.

"No, Your Honor." He said, shaking his head. "We're meeting in northern California."

"I'll have my receptionist deliver it to you," the judge said, studying the General. "You can wait outside my office."

Jack nodded. "Thank you, Your Honor." He said, reaching for the door handle.

"You're welcome, General."

Suddenly, he felt the familiar tug of an Asgard beam on his molecules.

* * *

"We're meeting with NID agents based in Sacramento," Barrett said as they drove toward the warehouse location. "They're going to help us surround the compound and enter from all of the exit points."

"Have we heard anything from Jack yet?"

Barrett shook his head. "It may be that the judge had a full docket, though."

"Maybe." Daniel said, nodding.

"I want each of you to head up a team of agents. That way we can fan out, and keep from doing something that would put Sam in danger."

"Maybe we should get Mitchell and Vala involved…" Daniel said, worriedly.

"I thought of that already. They'll be meeting us as well."

"Now, we just have to hope that they didn't see Woolsey's double-cross coming," Daniel said, swallowing.

* * *

Jack found himself aboard a goa'uld ha'tak class ship, somewhat surprised to have been beamed anywhere in the first place. He didn't get a chance to look around before he felt the not-long-forgotten shock of a zat shot.

"Take him to the machine."

Without a word, three men appeared and did as they'd been instructed, dragging the Air Force general back into the ring transport room.

* * *

"Hey, guys," Mitchell said, soberly, as Daniel and Teal'c arrived at the meeting location a mile away from the warehouse.

"Hi," Daniel said with a sober smile.

"Where's General O'Neill?" Vala asked, surveying the group.

"Stuck in DC until after the trial – unless he can get a travel pass."

"That wouldn't have stopped me."

"I know it wouldn't have," Daniel said, rolling his eyes.

"So, Woolsey said Carter was here?"

Barrett nodded.

"And we trust him? I mean, I thought Sam said something about Woolsey stopping by and apologizing about how he ruined her career."

"Does it matter?" Daniel asked, sharply. "Sam's in that warehouse."

"Daniel's right," Barrett said, interrupting the tense moment. "We should get going. There's no telling whether or not they suspected Woolsey."

"Right," Mitchell said, becoming suddenly sober. "Let's go."

* * *

"Go," came the whispered signal over the radios.

Daniel motioned for his team to follow him through the doors. Within a few moments, all of the teams had burst into the empty warehouse.

"Clearly, they didn't trust Woolsey either," Mitchell said, putting his gun in the waistband of his jeans.

Daniel cursed under his breath.

"We'll find her," Barrett said, stoically.

"Yeah, we better. Or it's not going to matter whether or not Jack's on trial for fraternization because it won't be long before he's on trial for murdering every one of the IOA delegates." Daniel said, seriously. "Starting with Richard Woolsey."


	11. Memories

"It will only take me a few more moments to finish the grafting," a voice said as Jack became slowly more and more conscious.

"As long as there's no possibility that the graft will be detected."

"That's less likely with her unconscious."

Jack's brow furrowed somewhat, though he quickly schooled his features back into the restful ones of a sleeper, still attempting to gather some more intel.

He felt the cold leather of wrist and ankle restraints dig into his flesh somewhat. A goa'uld mothership. Zat guns. Some sort of alien memory manipulation device – probably the Galeran device that SG-1 had brought back a few years earlier.

"Where did you get the memory?"

"We recreated General O'Neill's cabin here in the facility for surveillance purposes," another voice piped in. "Tami and Kurt from Accounting apparently decided to use the artificial ambiance to their advantage. We've taken their memories and grafted them into Colonel Carter's mind. Since she was unconscious at the time, it will seem more like a dream, but specific details may still help her believe that it did."

"I thought this was for certain," The first voice said, sharply.

"Well, with the implantation procedure, I'm sure it will work."

O'Neill's eyes opened almost instantly. Implantation? That word had never been followed by anything good before.

"You had better pray that it does work, Doctor." The first voice said, coldly. "Or the consequences will easily reach Fairbanks, Alaska."

Jack could almost smell the second man's fear. "I-it'll work, sir."

"Now, do O'Neill."

Jack swallowed. Memory grafts – the only thing he'd ever heard that term associated with was the Galeran device which had been modified from a goa'uld memory recall device. And it had been the source of pain and confusion for Colonel Mitchell.

He pressed gently against the restraints that bound his hands and feet. There was no way he was getting out of here unless Daniel and Mitchell brought Barrett. He swallowed. His best bet was to trick them into believing that he was actually unconscious. That way, the grafts wouldn't be as easily hidden in his subconscious state.

How could he do it effectively, he asked himself, quickly.

Kel'noreem. He remembered instantly. For once, he thanked God for the time that he and Teal'c had switched bodies. Empty your mind, O'Neill, he thought to himself. Commune with your body in a way you'd never done before Junior.

He swallowed. It's yours and Carter's only hopes.

* * *

Daniel shut the cell phone closed, cursing under his breath. "He's not picking up."

"So? He's probably just in the airplane with his phone turned off." Mitchell said, shrugging.

"Without telling us that he got the pass?" Daniel asked, skeptically. "He's too good a tactician to fly all the way to California just to find out that we've already done the sweep, and that we didn't find her. Not to mention cheap."

"I don't know," Barrett said, skeptically. "O'Neill seems pretty personally involved with this case. He may not do what he usually does…"

"You don't understand," Daniel snapped, turning to the NID agent. "Every time we were captured, it was personal for Jack. But he never lost his field experience. He never ignored it. Something is going on."

"Perhaps O'Neill has also been abducted," Teal'c said, soberly.

"Why would they do that?" Daniel asked after a moment.

"Let's find out." Barrett said, his face stony.

* * *

Consciousness came slowly to Samantha Carter as the throbbing of her head and the stiffness of her neck badgered her to waking with the sun.

The brightness of the Minnesota sun offended her eyes almost instantly, and she closed them to save herself the immediate headache. The room was cold, and she pulled the sheets more closely to her body, almost surprised to find her hands touching bare skin along her breast bone.

What had happened last night? She asked herself as she tried to pull her mind into a state of wakefulness.

"I don't think I've ever had that much to drink."

"I don't know how much you had to drink," she responded, groggily, "But it can't have been any more than I had to drink."

Suddenly, the recognition that she was lying naked beside General Jack O'Neill, the man who was being tried for having an inappropriate relationship with her, caused a flood of panic to wash over her. She sat up, clutching the sheets with her hands. "Get up!" She ordered in a panic.

"I'm up, I'm up!" Jack cried, shooting upright. "Geez, Carter, what's with the..."

He paled as he looked over. "Carter, you're..."

"Not supposed to be here." She said, nodding.

"Just how drunk did we get last night?" He asked, stupidly.

"Too drunk," she said, almost sick at the thought.

"What're we gonna..."

"You're going to get in the shower. Then, while you're getting dressed, I'll get in the shower. We can figure out everything else then."

He nodded, strangely comfortable taking orders from her instead of the other way around as images appeared in his mind. A laboratory of some kind, a few scotches, and a face...

"I want you..." It was Sam's voice, but she hadn't spoken his name. Kurt? Was that the name he'd heard?

He shook the memories from his mind as he slipped into the shower with the hot water dripping down his body, warming him despite the sudden shiver that had traveled up his spine. Someone was pulling the strings here. If only he could remember who was holding the strings.


End file.
